What's For Supper

I don't ever intend to annoy you, my Loyal Readers with advertising. I ain't in this blogging thing for the money, fast cars and beautiful women. (None of which you can get by blogging. For that you need what they call "a real job.")

But from time to time I will inflict upon regale you with certain gustatory delights as they come my way.

On Saturday afternoon, The Missus Herself decided to take Yours Truly out to eat in honor of Father's Day on Sunday. Both of us being otherwise occupied with previous plans on Sunday, having forgotten that that particular Sunday, the 15th of June, was indeed Father's Day. As the progeny have all grown up, moved out and are pursuing successful careers, we tend to forget these sort of holidays. (Unless they call, which they usually do.)

At any rate, I digress.

So we went out to first purchase a few things necessary for our continued existence at Chez Sarge, to wit, some chemicals to destroy the poison ivy making a comeback along the northward facing ramparts of the estate (think wooden fence) and a new mouse for the computer upon which I create this blog. (The old one having decided that where one click is good, more than one is even better. It also will point to where it wants, not where I want. The new mouse is much better behaved.)

Oh yeah, we also purchased a movie for Little Bit whom The Missus Herself will be visiting this coming week and grandmothers always bring presents. What movie? Why this one - 

When queried as to what movies she might like, Big Time suggested this one. Knowing full well that he too would be watching it 6,000,000 times, I think he picked one that he might find entertaining as well. Who can blame him? (Said the man who watched Mulan with his daughters 5,975,158 times and 1,845,452 times with his granddaughter and will no doubt top that with Frozen. I've only seen that one 584,256 times. Good movies but still.)

Hhmm, I see I've digressed once more.

Ah yes, what's for supper?

When queried as to where I wished to dine to celebrate the upcoming Day of Fathers, I said, "Let's try this new place (new as in it's only been here a year) called Not Your Average Joe's. The Missus Herself replied with "Why not?"

So to said dining establishment we went. I ordered a Harpoon IPA (on tap) for to peruse the menu. (I so like to wet my whistle now and again while perusing.)

Before continuing, I must confess, I am a huge fan of meatloaf.

No, not that one (though I suppose he's "okay"). This one -

Because you see, growing up, my Mother made what had to be the best meatloaf on the planet. Hamburger and bread crumbs all mushed and smashed together. Then chopped green olives mixed in. It all got put in a bread pan, then baked in the oven. Just before serving, Mom would top it with tomato paste then cook it a bit longer.

Then voilà, a simple culinary delight. Normally served with mashed potatoes and peas. Seventh heaven for a chap like me who prefers simpler fare.

I have to say though, that The Missus Herself has since taken my Mother's recipe and done simple, little (secret) things to it to make it even better. (Sorry Mom. But it is awfully good.)

Like I said, I like, no strike that, I LOVE meatloaf. (Again, the dish, not the singer. Though I suppose he's "okay.")

So, after all this singing of the praises of one of my favorite dishes, I'll bet you can guess what I saw on the menu at Not Your Average Joe's.

Yup, meatloaf. (Again, not the singer, etc., etc.)

The entry in the menu read  -

anything but average meatloaf

fresh mozzarella stuffed meatloaf, with sautéed veggies and mashed potatoes with barbeque gravy

Yes, it was stuffed with mozzarella. Calling them "sautéed veggies" is an understatement, they were a pot pourri of peas, carrots and corn, perfectly cooked and swimming in that lovely barbecue gravy.

What wasn't mentioned in the menu was that the meatloaf came topped with crispy little deep-fried strings of onion. The lead-in picture illustrates nicely what my meal looked like. There is no way, this side of heaven, I can describe the taste of this incredible meal. In fact, let's take another look (these images all came off the web, I wish I had had the presence of mind to actually take a photo of my actual meal. The chef in Seekonk was not stingy with gravy, mash, veggies and onions, these pictures don't do it justice!)

Yeah, I had a lot more veggies, more mash and the plate was covered with gravy. Not too much, but just enough.

So there you have it. Meatloaf to die for. Meatloaf to savor and tell your grandchildren about.

A meatloaf worthy of its French name, pain de viande.

Bottom line, if you're ever in certain areas of New England or near DC, check out Not Your Average Joe's. Get the meatloaf. I give it four out of a possible five Phantoms.

Oh yeah, I had a second Harpoon IPA, I like those too.